


you found me. // larry stylinson

by peachyytomlinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Don't Read If You're Sad, M/M, and that h had prince hair in 2019 too, angst with a happy ending !, fuck cowbell, i'm in a mood lmao, lets all pretend this is in 2019 okay?, this is a vent dump, trigger warning, trigger warning for the f slur and eds!, you said you cared and you missed me too..., zayn and fizz are still here !
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26116465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyytomlinson/pseuds/peachyytomlinson
Summary: where were you, where were you?just a little late,you found me, you found me.__
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	you found me. // larry stylinson

**Author's Note:**

> tw: attempted su!c!de, alcohol, drugs, and swearing.
> 
> this is purely a vent dump, i'm not trying to romanticize suicide in any way, shape, or form, i just need to get these feelings out.

louis doesn't think that there's any possible way to describe how he's feeling. literally none at all. 

he's staring at this blank wall in front of him, and he's focusing on this tea stain that he _knows_ is from harry; there's no doubt in his mind. his eyes trace the lines it forms, the way it fades around the edges, and he suddenly feels at peace. there's cars zooming below him on the busy city streets, but he pays them no mind, only looking at this stain. his fingers reach out for the handle of the gun next to him on the bed; clutching it tightly in his shaking hands. he doesn't even feel like he's in his own body anymore, his laugh is far away and it sounds distorted to him.

his leg jitters up and down, up and down, up and down. he watches it, like it's a foreign thing for him to see. like niall and liam don't do it all the time.   
  
_up and down, up and down, up and down._

the room smells strongly of vodka, and only when louis looks over at his nightstand is when he sees the bottle. his phone is blowing up with notifications next to him, but he _honestly just doesn't fucking_ _care anymore._ he doesn't want to look at twitter; he knows what he'll see, especially after his drunk tweets. concerned fans, pissed off messages from management, and god, he just doesn't want to deal with that bullshit right now. 

he really wants harry, like _really, really, really_ wants harry. 

and not in that way, but he just wants to be held, to be cuddled and kissed again. 

his heart clenches at the thought of not being able to say goodbye to the love of his life, but the feeling soon dissipates at the realization that harry decided to choose partying with the lads over spending the night with him. he grows angry, stumbling over the sheets to grab the vodka and a pill bottle. 

if louis is being honest, he doesn't know what's in this prescription bottle. all he knows is that it'll numb the pain, and maybe it'll fucking kill him before he decides to put that gun to his head for real this time. 

he's not scared, well, he used to be, but he realized that all good things must come to an end... and that he's reached the end of his line. he's leaving nothing behind, he's donated most of his money to charities, and what's left, which isn't much, he's given to harry. all his burberry clothing and other stylish garments have also gone to people in need. he's given all his hats to harry; something to remember him by. part of him wonders if harry, the boys, or paul have seen the twitter shit storm going on right now, but he curses himself for thinking that, because they'd be here already, right? he rolls his eyes to himself, popping two more pills into his mouth. 

two soon becomes five, and five becomes ten, and jeez, the room is really starting to spin now. his head hurts, _god_ , it really hurts... the light is hurting his eyes, and he thinks that drinking is the best way to get out of this hell. 

surely, someone in that group has seen twitter. surely, someone has to be coming...

louis gets up on unsteady feet, stumbling over to the ceiling to floor windows, looking out at the twinkling city lights. his left hand holds the bottle of vodka; the contents nearly half empty, while his right hand holds the pill bottle. the lights have a bokeh effect going on, and they're starting to spin as the pills kick in even more. his grip on the vodka bottle intensifies as a particularly bad wave of dizziness hits him. his phone continues to buzz from the bed, irritating him to the point where he lets a mangled shout escape his throat as he throws the pill bottle at the wall, the tiny red and white capsules spilling on the floor. louis's chest heaves as he turns back towards his bed, tripping over his own feet as he goes to pick up his phone. 

eleven missed calls from simon, two from eleanor, ten collective ones from other people in management, and louis just rolls his eyes, swiping them away. he sees texts from liam and zayn, telling him that they're on their way back to the hotel, and that he shouldn't do anything stupid... niall's text is basically the same thing, and that he has scared harry something awful. 

then he sees it, twenty eight missed calls from harry, and thirty unread texts. 

his heart churns at harry's broken hearted messages, tears welling up in his eyes. the texts start to become misspelled and jumbled as they come in, making the tears roll down louis's cheeks. he tries his hardest to stop his hands from shaking as he types out his reply, hoping to god that these pills just take him out. 

he sends one texts, five simple words. 

_i'm sorry. i love you._

louis throws his phone down back onto the uncomfortable hotel bed, eyeing the gun momentarily, but shakes his head to himself, walking over to retrieve the pills instead. he laughs to himself, simon's words repeating over and over again. _"you always take the easy way out, tomlinson. you're such a fuck up, jesus christ."_ louis snorts, finding this situation entirely too true. maybe, just maybe, if he makes it out of this thing alive, he'll finally expose simon and his homophobic ass company. he leans down to pick up the bottle, tossing another couple pills in his mouth. 

louis stumbles backwards, his back hitting the wall and his knees buckle in on themselves. he slides down the wall, head lolling to the side once his bottom hits the shitty carpet. the lights above him are too bright, his tailbone is starting to hurt, and his hands are shaking. the vodka is _just_ out of his reach, but his mind is slowing down and his energy is slowly leaving him. he can hear his heart thundering in his ears, and everything is becoming too _loud_ , it's all just too fucking loud. his head is pounding, it's directly on his right temple, and he wants to _scream._

he can feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness, his vision going black but coming back a moment later. a smile stretches across his lips lazily, realizing exactly what's happening. 

finally, everything goes still, and the last thing louis sees is his hotel door busting open, and he hears the distorted sounds of his bandmates and the love of his life screaming for him. 

there's yelling, he's sure of it...is he in heaven? or hell? he doesn't know... there's people yelling, and wait, that's harry...  
  
his knees are hurting, and why can he feel pain? zayn is yelling too, his fingers are cold. something isn't right... he can hear liam and harry going into hysterics while niall sounds really close to him. why can't he open his eyes? louis wants to call out to harry, hold his hand and tell him he's sorry; he'd apologize for everything.   
  
he almost slips back into the dark that's creeping up his back, but he stops when he feels his mouth being pried open, and oh no.   
  
he knows exactly what they're doing now.   
  
they're trying to get him to throw up, they learned this before tour started in their safety courses. no matter how numb his body is, he's trying to move, trying to shrug them off him so that he can just go off and be with his mum again. he misses her, _so fucking much._  
  
louis can't move, though. he's trying and he just can't. they're holding him upright, and _damn you!_ he thinks, trying to open his eyes a little bit.   
  
his eyes, he can get open, and he's greeting with a toilet bowl staring right back at him. his vision feels like a tunnel, that's the best way he can describe it. he's looking at the world through thin slits and he just wants to turn around and look at harry. him facing the love of his life would shatter him, though, and he knows that. goddamn, he's selfish, he thinks, shaking his head at himself. he knows he hurt harry, no he didn't hurt him, he probably broke him. once again, simon's words ring in his head.   
  
louis's ears start to ring, and that cold darkness is creeping into his brain again... for a fleeting moment, he thinks he sees his mum running towards him, a distressed look on her beautiful face. he wants to frown, he doesn't like it when she's upset. everything is cold, he's so cold, and he wants his mom. she's still running towards him, and he finally notices the baby blue dress she's wearing, along with the white flats... her favorite outfit. her mouth is moving, but he can't hear her, he can't hear anything anymore.   
  
just as johannah reaches her hand out for louis to grab, it all goes black again. 

louis regains consciousness when a wave of cold air washes over him, there's people shouting, people crying, and people who are screaming. there's a hand in his, footsteps that are level to his ear, and a voice that's watery and breaking, but it's also very reassuring and he immediately recognizes it as harry. he tries to open his mouth and say something, but he can't get anything to come out.

zayn, niall, liam, and paul must be in front of them because louis can hear them yelling for people to get out of the way. he really hopes it's not paparazzi, because that's just going to be a joy to deal with when simon decides on what he wants to do about it. he can practically hear it now: _"honestly, louis, how am i supposed to have management deal with this? you being led out of the fucking hotel on a stretcher into an ambulance, and not to mention your fucking boyfriend holding your hand!"_ it's fucked up how that's what he's thinking about, but since he's so media trained, that's how it is. 

there's shutters going off, he can hear them, and fuck; that fantasy will probably become a reality if he doesn't od in the next couple of minutes. 

the stretcher gets jumbled around a tad bit when he's being lifted into the ambulance, causing him to groan again; and harry catches it this time. proof being that he squeezes his hand a little tighter and whispers some reassuring words. louis tries to catch them, he really does, but the pills kick in again, and everything goes black. 

louis wakes up to an annoying and shrilly siren, two people shouting back and forth at each other, and two other people crying. he opens his eyes to be greeted with two silhouettes above him and gross fluorescent lighting. he groans, shutting his eyes tightly, but no one seems to hear him over the paramedics shouting. as for the two people crying, he can't really hear them, but he's sure that one of them is harry. 

_harry._

his heart twists in guilt, anxiety filling his chest. he can heart the heart-rate monitor start to pick up its beeping, catching the medics' attention. 

_"..fibrillators! get me the defibrillators! he's crashing!"_

it's true, louis can feel his heartbeat slowing, it's getting harder to breathe and the darkness is clouding over his vision again. the voices become louder and louder before everything goes quiet again, letting louis's headache finally dissipate. 

//

with a groan, louis opens his eyes to a white popcorned ceiling. he can hear his heart-rate monitor from beside him, as well as the other hospital monitors that he honestly can't name for the life of him. the iv in his hand itches and god, he wants it the hell out. his head is foggy and fuzzy, and his eyes feel so dry it isn't funny. 

there's people talking, he can hear them at the doorway of his room. they're whispering, like he doesn't want to wake him up, well, too late. he knows harry's there, he can hear his voice, as well as the other boys. he assumes the other voices are his doctors or nurses. 

"this might be a hard question to answer, but it would truly help in figuring out what's happened. did louis suddenly appear very happy, unusually happy before this happened?" the doctor asks, silence following it. "off-stage, he'd start to offer to pay for things more, and he gave us some of his clothes and hats... i got a cash transfer of about five hundred thousand dollars the other day from our shared bank account, and i saw that he'd donated everything else off to charities... oh god," harry's voice trails off, coming to the realization that louis wish he wasn't. he trains his eyes on the ceiling, not letting himself look at the doorway. "oh my god, i should've known," harry cries, voice cracking sharply, and louis can hear someone that sounds an awful lot like zayn comforting him. 

louis can hear the doctor make a noise of disagreement, which confuses him momentarily. 

"no, harry, it's quite alright... what louis went through is something called suicidal euphoria, it's when an individual finally feels that the plan that he or she has made is finalized, and that they know there will be no more pain soon for them... am i right to assume that louis has seemed calm and more happier these past couple of days?" the doctor asks, and there's no verbal reply, so louis can only imagine that they're nodding. "i should've known," harry whispers again, and there's a tightness evident in his voice. 

louis feels the tears well up in his eyes at the pain in harry's voice, now regretting his actions so insanely much it's stupid. he tries his best to block out the sounds of the doctors voices as well as the boy's, shutting his eyes again. 

"he's here now though, boys... you got to him at the right time, and you did the right thing. you can go in and see him if you'd like, he'll most likely be up in the next hour or so..." 

louis has this sudden urge to laugh, but he keeps it down, trying to even out his breathing. he can hear the boys making their way into the room, silently taking their seats. the scent of harry's cologne wafts into his nose, making him keen towards his boyfriend slightly. he hopes that none of them catch it, because he's not ready to open his eyes and face them yet. he's not ready to face their sympathy, their sadness, their anger, and their rushed words that they're sorry that they didn't pay enough attention, and that they should've known. louis doesn't blame them, not in the slightest. 

there's fingers that intertwine with his, and it nearly makes him jump. they belong to harry, no doubt. louis can feel the rings that line his boyfriend's long and lanky fingers, and he almost smiles, almost. he's missed this feeling, the cool metal pressed against his skin; it had become a sense of comfort whenever they'd hold hands in bed or when they'd walk the vacant london or los angeles streets. 

louis knows he can't keep his eyes shut forever, he knows that all too well. when he's been in the world's biggest boyband for the past four years, sometimes all he wants to do is just curl up in a ball and hide away with harry. sometimes, he has dreams of them running away to one of their vacation homes, and they don't tell anyone except for the boys and their families, and in those dreams, they're happy, they have dogs, they have kids... they're _free._ unfortunately, this isn't one of those dreams, this feels more like a nightmare; him sitting here in this hospital bed in this scratchy gown, his boy and his bandmates surrounding him... it's a nightmare he wants out of.

harry squeezes his hand gently, bringing him out of his thoughts and back into the real world. louis _knows_ he has to open his eyes, he has to let them know he's okay--well, not okay, still alive, at least. 

so, taking it in his pride, he slowly opens his eyes back up, staring at the little designs on the ceiling. the room is silent now, harry's grip intensifies ever so slightly and it prompts louis to look over at his boyfriend. louis's heart drops in his chest at the sight of harry, his bloodshot green eyes, his prince hair not so prince-like anymore; all mussed up and knotted, his bottom lip chewed and a little bloody... _god,_ louis thinks, _i didn't have to pull that shit._ louis's eyes trace over the tear tracks on harry's face, heart clenching up in guilt. 

louis squeezes harry's hand softly, breaking harry out of his trance. "hi, baby..." louis trails off, offering harry a watery smile; getting one in return from the taller man. "i-i, lou, louis, you're... lou, lou, lou..." 

harry's words are jumbled and he's stumbling over all of them. louis just smiles, watching as harry shuts his mouth and lifts his hand up gently, kissing his knuckles. harry's eyes shut tightly, and louis frowns when he sees the tears fall from the corners of his eyes. "baby..." he whispers, making harry's eyes open slightly; almost like slits. louis honestly can't even see his eyes, that's how hard harry's crying. 

"i'm right here, baby, look," louis tells him, putting harry's hand right on top of his heart. "i'm still here." 

harry nods, looking over his lover's face, focusing on the thumping of louis's heart under his hand. louis is here, he tells himself. _we got to him in time._

harry can see the pain in louis's eyes, the dark eyebags make his stomach churn. he can see the hollowness of his cheekbones, and he wants to scream at himself for not checking in on louis's eating schedule enough. the boniness of his fingers makes harry want to cry, because he knows deep down that this could've been stopped, he could've prevented it. louis must sense this, because he shakes his head with a sad smile. "don't blame yourself, alright? it was my fault for getting in a mood, i picked up that bottle of vodka and the gun, that was on me. i should've talked to you, all of you, but i was being arrogant and i wasn't thinking clearly. i'm sorry, i didn't mean for it to end up like this..." louis trails off, looking over at the other boys, looking at their sorrow filled faces and their own tear streaked cheeks. 

"i thought that maybe, if i was gone, you'd all be better off, and management would ease off on you lot. i mean, let's be honest, we all know that i'm the cause of almost basically everything management has done to us," louis cracks with a smile, making the other boys let out watery laughs, nodding their heads. "even if that's true," he continues, squeezing harry's hand, "i now realize that we've stuck through everything together, and we always will. i mean, we've been doing that for four years now, and _this_ isn't about to change that. i'm sorry i pulled that shit, and i know we can stick through it together, right?" he looks around the room, all four boys crying fresh tears, but nodding nonetheless. "right then, i know cowshit will be here soon, and when he's here, i'm not letting him treat us like shit, alright? i might have just overdosed, but that doesn't mean i'm not going to let him fuckin' be a shit person. my heads a little foggy, sure, but i'm still the sass master you all need, so let's get this over with and find ourselves a new management company, yeah?" louis finishes his mini-speech with a mischievous smile, putting his free hand out in the middle for a group fist bump. 

all the boys laugh loudly this time, seeing that louis is still a little hazy and drugged up, but still has the energy to be how he normally is, warms their hearts. they all put their fists in, smiling at each other. 

//

louis is still in the hospital under observation two days later, still in this stupid and uncomfortable bed, with harry on top of his chest. the younger boy is dozing away, while he watches some shitty sitcom on the telly on the wall. zayn, liam, and niall are in the room as well, sitting in their chairs. liam is on the phone with someone, probably management. zayn is asleep in his chair, chin nearly touching his shoulder, and his arms are wrapped around his ribs. niall is watching the show as well, looking over at them every once in a while with a fond smile on his face. 

all is peaceful in the room, and louis doesn't want it any other way. 

but, everything peaceful is always met with something chaotic, and louis knew this would happen. he knew simon would be here soon, but he didn't think that harry and zayn would be resting, that him, liam, and niall would be getting some relaxation time. he didn't think it would be so soon. 

louis thought that maybe, simon would have some compassion in his bones and wait until he got out of the hospital, but he sees now that it was all just wishful thinking.

the knock at his door sends his attention away from the telly to the nurse standing in the doorway. she offers him a sheepish smile, slowly stepping into the room. "there's a man here to see you mister tomlinson," she tells him, and louis feels everything slow to a stop. "he said that it's important." 

here's the thing, louis knows that the nurse is nice, and that she's only trying to be helpful, but she doesn't know the hell that he and the other boys go through when it comes to _the man who says it's important._

"i don't want him in here," louis tells her, glancing over at niall, who has his full attention on the two of them. louis's hands snake around harry, holding him close to his chest. he's scared that if he let's him go, he'll disappear, and he does not want a repeat of twenty-fourteen and twenty-fifteen. the nurse opens her mouth to say something, but a cough from the doorway interrupts her. 

louis sees red, glancing over the nurse's shoulder to see the man he's hated for as long as he can remember. 

"i don't think it matters on whether or not you want to see me, tomlinson. we need to talk about how i'm going to fix the shit-show _y_ _ou_ caused on twitter and in the press. i've got media outlet after media outlet contacting management, who are coming at me, since none of you are answering your phones, and now i'm here." simon rants, as if everything that's happened is their faults. 

of course harry is starting to wake up from his nap when this starts to go down, louis realizes, holding his boy a little tighter. 

"what's going on, lou?" harry's small voice fills the room, making louis meet stares with him. harry's eyes are brighter after his nap, making louis's heart clench in adoration. "nothin', darling, it's alright--" louis starts to say, but simon cuts him off with a snarl. "that's funny, tomlinson. you don't want your boyfriend knowing that you just sunk this bands career? it's comical, really, it's just like you." 

the anger flares up again, but louis tries his best to keep it down, for harry's sake. 

he can feel harry tense up in his arms, and he wants to scream. scream at simon, at management, at everyone who'd ever wronged them. harry peeks up at him again, and louis tries his best to give him a convincing smile, but he can tell by the look on harry's face that it doesn't work. 

_"get away from them."_

a cold feminine voice pulls all the tension in the room towards her, making simon turn around. louis can see his sisters standing in the doorway, and for a moment, he feels proud of them for sticking up to this homophobic douchebag, but it fleets; replacing its place is fear. _don't_ , he wants to scream, _don't let it get to you._

charlotte tomlinson's face is fierce as she glares up at the man that has ruined her brother's life. fizzy is next to her, and the twins are behind them, face's equally stone cold as lottie's. louis feels another swell of pride in him as he looks at them, knowing he taught them well. simon laughs, looking back at louis with a humored expression. "was this your idea? sending _them_ here?" he quips, voice snarky and fake. before louis can answer him, lottie speaks up again. "no, cowshit, it was our idea. our brother is in the hospital, because of _you,_ and he deserves to have a healthy resting space. it baffles me that you're even here right now, couldn't this have waited until louis is out? why come now? because you know that this isn't going to end in your favor? i think that you do know, you know your career is going to go down in flames, your companies, your shows, everything."

the room is silent as they watch this interaction happen, all eyes on lottie and simon. lottie's voice is cold, but everyone can see the anger in her eyes. she's furious, and no one blames her, they are too. simon looks like he's been slapped momentarily, but tries to cover it up the best you can. "you have no idea what you're talking about. you stupid, little girls. you don't understand the industry, and what life in it is like for these... these _faggots._ "

big mistake. 

fizzy's palm is across his cheek before anyone can react, the echo of the slap is almost deafening as louis's jaw drops. "you _bastard_ ," she spits, eyes blazing something fierce. "their lawyer, who is respectful to understand what _family only_ means, is waiting outside, and you better bet that we have _so much shit_ on you, simon. you've ruined everything, they deserve to be happy, not just lou and haz, but all of them. they deserve to be happy and healthy, and zayn's eating disorder? that was on _you,_ just because you couldn't let them stop and take a breath. you wouldn't let them come home even for the weekend, you just wanted the money, and i honestly hope you rot in hell." 

it finally hits louis as he watches this happen; they're all grown up now. they're not the little girls he used to pick up from school and drive them to get a milkshake after school anymore, they're badass young women, and he's damn proud to be their brother. harry must sense it too, because he squeezes louis's finger, making the older man look down at the one in his lap. he gives him a quick peck before looking back up at simon. "get out, mate." 

simon looks at him as if he's grown three heads, laughing quietly to himself. he looks at louis, waiting for him to back down, but he doesn't. 

"get out, and never show your face ever again. we're walking, and fuck your contract because it ends next week, and you know it. you cannot trap us into signing another one." heads turn to harry as his quiet voice pipes up, face determined as he stares up at simon. "we'll see you in court, cowell." 

niall stands up, beckoning the girls into the room and holding the door open, looking at simon expectantly. simon looks around the room, shaking his head. "whatever, you'll crash and burn without me--" simon starts, but is cut off by zayn snorting loudly. simon glares, but zayn just waves him off, sitting back in his chair. "go on, simon, there's not much left of us to for you to mooch off of anyways." the room chills as zayn speaks, eyes sending daggers straight into simon. 

without another word, simon walks out, not looking back once. 

everything is quiet for two minutes after that, before niall finally breaks the silence. "well..." he breathes out, carding his hand through his hair. "that was something wasn't it?" 

the room bursts into laughter, everyone all smiles and giggles, the tension of cowshit long gone. "definitely," daisy and phoebe chime in, sitting down on louis's bedside. harry moves to get up and let them sit with their brother, but he gets firm head shakes from both of them, happy smiles on their cherubic faces. louis notices this, wrapping his arms tighter around harry, holding him to his chest. "love you," he murmurs, rubbing harry's hip bone. harry turns his head, grinning into louis's temple. "i love you, too, now get some sleep, alright?"

and once the room has calmed down, sleep is definitely something everyone could get a bit of. 


End file.
